Who Do You Think You Are? - M Factor Competition Entry

This is my entry for the 'M Factor' competition. I'm just going to start it and see if it works, I hope you enjoy it :D

Zinnia is 1/4 of girl rock band Violet Vanity.
This year, in their last shot of fame, they have decided to enter the biggest talent show on Earth - The X Factor. However, little do her bandmates know, Zinnia is only 14, underage for entering the show... and she hates the music she sings and knows so well. After a slutty and confusing performance, Violet Vanity are through to bootcamp... but what happens thereafter will be a rollercoaster ride of stress and anxiety, and as the truth begins to unfold, everyone begins to learn that 'Star', Zinnia's cover name, is not all she turns out to be...

WARNING~ Mild language that is starred like so ***. I'm sorry, I only use it when it seems right. Also the views expressed in this about the contestants are just so they fit in with the story and not necessarily my own :)
Thankyou for reading!<3


3. 3) The Nurse's Ward

"Where did you find her? She's in an awful state..." 

"There were just some girls, on the street, punching her and kicking her. Local Scouse girls, I think. Who knows what must have happened - I thought I recognised her from the show. Her head is really in a bad way..." 

"Yes, well I'll have to do a few checks on her, but I think she'll be okay. You've done a good job." 

"Let me know if anything gets better, or..." 

"There's no 'or' about it. She'll be perfectly fine." 

The voices swim around my head. One, the soothing, soft tone of a woman, and the other, a man with a slight cockney accent, concerned, quiet. I drift in and out of consciousness. 

"Okay, well, I'll come and see her later." 

Footsteps walking out the room. Then, silence, apart from a soft beeping from the machine at my side. I flicker open my eyes gently, and find myself staring up at a blank ceiling - my head is killing me, almost like a thousand little people are punching it from the inside. Where on earth am I? 

I attempt to sit up, but I just begin to see lots of flashing lights in my vision and decide that it's probably not a good idea. So I slowly turn my head to one side, my right side, grimacing with the dull pain. However, I can now see my bedside table which has some violet flowers on it, and a little note that reads, 'get well soon, Star xx'. Why do I need to get well soon? What's wrong with me? 

Past the table, there are two other beds made up with crisp, clean white sheets, but no-one's lying in them. I seem to be the only one here, apart from a woman wearing light blue uniform, who has her back to me, preparing something on a table at the far side of the room. The walls are just plain cream, and there are a few posters and safety precautions dotted around. It smells of antiseptics, and a weird kind of air freshener. If I squint, I can just make out a red plastic sign on the door that reads 'Nurse's Ward'. 

So, I'm being looked after by the nurse. The nurse where? Something must have happened to me. What happened? 

All of a sudden, it feels like a whoosh of air is passing through my brain, clearing it, because I now remember exactly what happened. 

"Oh, yous didn't mean ter?! You're a stuck-up London twat, ye ner dat?!" 

"Yeah, what yous do'n so far from 'ome, ya posh bitch?!"

I begin to feel incredibly dizzy, and it's all I can do to lean over the side of the bed before I throw up on the tiled floor. I hear myself groan, as I wipe my lips on my bare arms. The smell of my own vomit hits my nose and for some reason, I start to cry. The nurse turns around and rushes over, patting my back and murmuring reassuring words to me. 

"It's alright, pet. Don't get upset now." 

I'm taking great massive gulps of air between my sobs, and I sound like some stupid fish out of water. The nurse props up my pillows and helps me to carefully sit up, holding my hands and wiping my face with a tissue. 

"Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. That's it, sweetheart. Just calm yourself. I'll clean this up."

I whisper an 'okay' through my weeping, and dot my eyes with a tissue. I clutch my chest with my hand, breathing just as she says, and finally my crying begins to slow. Soon enough, she's back over with a mop and some disinfectant. 

"You've suffered quite a shock by the sounds of things, pet. Do you remember what happened?" 

Her voice is very soothing and her eyes are kind. She has little laugh lines around her eyes, so she must be in her late forties, I would guess. I trust her. 

"I do n...now." I stutter quietly through my receding tears. She shakes her head sadly. 

"Teenagers these days, love. I mean, you look to be barely one yourself, but..." 

"I'm 17." I blurt out, before she comes to any suspicion. Maybe it was too sudden, because she stares at me with a searching gaze for a minute, before returning to her mopping. 

"Hm. Well, from what the young man said, you were hit by a bunch of hooligans in the head, and you've suffered mild bleeding. Nothing I couldn't sort out, although, you have quite a severe concussion. No worse than that though, dear." 

I nod slowly. My hand reaches up to feel a soft cotton bandage wrapped around my head, and my skin is bumpy, so it feels like I have some stitches in. It kills. 

"Where am I?" I ask. 

"You're in the Liverpool Centre Hotel, pet. Do you remember? It's where you were making your way to before this all happened. You're an X Factor contestant. 3 girls dropped by earlier saying they were members of your band. They're holding the bootcamp at the Echo Arena, so they've sent all the  211 remaining contestants here for a couple days to settle in before it all kicks off." 

Oh, great. 

Of course I remember. Alex, Cadey, Nina and me. Getting through because of some slutty dance they stupidly did. Not on our vocals, oh no. I let out a sigh. 

"Yes. I remember." 

The nurse smiles. 

"Good, that's good. Because if you'd forgotten it could have been bad amnesia, and then I would have had to check you out further. But you should be able to leave in a few hours, if you're alright." 

I give her a smile back, but it doesn't reach my eyes. It's too forced. 

"I'm fine. Thankyou for everything. And," I gesture to the sick, "sorry, about that." 

She chuckles. 

"Oh, it's fine, fine. Nausea and vomiting is just a symptom of concussion. And I've had to deal with a lot worse!" 

I quietly say 'that's good' and begin staring into space. As I'm sitting there, I try and re-order my thoughts so they don't feel quite so jumbled. 

My name is Zinnia, and I'm 14 years old. Except everyone thinks my name is Star and I'm 17. I auditioned for The X Factor with my rock band Violet Vanity and we got in. But I hate rock music. I hate Alex and Cadey. Nina's ok. We got through to bootcamp and I was making my way to the hotel we were going to stay at when I was attacked by some girls I wound up a bit too far. And someone saved me...

"Who was it?" I exclaim abruptly. 

"Sorry, pet?" 

"Who was it, that saved me? Do you know his name?" 

"Oh!" She smiles, "Handsome young man he was. Must have been about 30, though he looked younger. Lovely greeny-brown eyes." 

"Yes, but, what was his name?" 

"K... K something. Kay? Ko? Ka.. ?" 

I sigh inwardly. No chance of me finding the mysterious guy that might have saved me from a serious injury then. Or was there? 

"Did he say he was coming back?" 

The nurse stops her thinking and nods. 

"Oh yes, he was very worried. He said he'd be back in... around about ten minutes. Oh, are you hungry, pet?" 

"A little." I say. 

"Well I'll just pop off to the food hall for you, then. Get you a bite. Any preferences?" 

I shrug. "I'll eat anything." 

Before I know it, she's rushing out the door, ordering me to press a certain button if anything happens and not to get out of bed and not to touch anything that she hasn't disinfected. But then, I'm not the kind of person to obey orders. 

As soon as she's out of sight, I slip myself out of bed and onto the cold floor, carefully avoiding the sick patch. I feel a little wobbly and unbalanced, but I can walk okay if I take it slow. I see that my suitcase is right at the bottom of my bed, and so in a quick act of pure vanity, I bend down and search for my makeup bag. Once I've found it, I take my tired body over to the mirror near the door. 

Jesus Christ. I look like I've seen a ghost. My hair, light brunette, falls unbrushed and untamed at my sides. My eyes are vacant and dull, moving slowly around my face and body, taking it all in. There's the bandage, wrapped around the side of my head, and without my heels and makeup I look small and young. This is bad, very bad. I'm supposed to be 17 and I look about 12. Time to sort myself out. 

Medium tone, translucent foundation on first. Just a little bit so as not to draw too much attention. A dot of concealer on a few nasty spots that have popped up from stress, and some bronzer on my cheekbones. Well, now my skin looks slightly healthier and less... green. Next, I take some eyeliner and quickly line my chocolate-brown eyes. Finally, a little mascara and some gloss on my cracked lips. I look up and admire my work. Better. Although I'm still in my old Tatty Teddy pyjamas. Ah well, I don't really feel like changing right now. And anyway, if this guy is about thirty there's not much point making an effort. Way out of my league. 

I'm just bending down to zip my suitcase back up when I hear that soft, cockney London voice again. 

"Should you really be out of bed?" 

~Author's Note~

Hello again lovely Movellians:D 
So I was hoping this story would get a bit more publicity, but you never know, maybe it will eventually;) 
Just thought I'd say that the views hereafter expressed about the contestants are not necessarily my own, they are just so they fit into the story - I'm sure they're all lovely people! 

So, who is this mysterious guy? And is Zinnia really ok? Read on! 

Lots of love, M xoxo







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